


Consume

by sageness



Category: due South
Genre: Canon - TV, Case Fic, Drugs, Genderbending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-30
Updated: 2007-06-30
Packaged: 2017-10-03 18:26:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sageness/pseuds/sageness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"No, don't!" Ray hissed as Fraser dipped his pinkie finger into the bright yellow powder on the table and licked it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Consume

"No, don't!" Ray hissed as Fraser dipped his pinkie finger into the bright yellow powder on the table and licked it.

Fraser made a face at the foul taste. "Hm. Diethyl—"

"Are you crazy? That stuff could be anything, Fraser."

"I'm merely—"

"Endangering your life and mine for no good reason. Get a sample; we'll take it to the lab and come back with a warrant." Fraser scraped a few grams of powder into his handkerchief and placed it in his belt pouch. "Come on," Ray said. "Let's go find out what this is."

Ten minutes later, Fraser was slumped against the passenger side door. It had suddenly grown extremely comfortable. Never had safety glass felt so much like a pillow. Fraser's eyes fell on Ray, who seemed to be calling his name. His thighs looked like pillows; his fingers looked so very long and expressive. They curled around the steering wheel. They had pulled Fraser out of harm's way countless times. Fraser wondered what Ray's palms tasted like. That was an odd thought. That wasn't their exit. They were off the expressway and Ray was yelling into his cell phone. The gumball light was flashing on the dashboard; Fraser blinked and they were screaming into a hospital's ER receiving lane. He blinked again and he was on a gurney.

"—in his belt pouch. It's evidence, so be careful with it. No, I don't know what it is! That's why you gotta take it to the lab. We were investigating a—"

Ray's hand was clutching Fraser's. Ray seemed very tall, like a giant from beyond the mountains in a storybook. Once, they were the same size, and now Fraser was shrinking. Perhaps he was Alice. Perhaps he had done something terribly foolish.

A machine beeped a dance. A slow dance with four beats. Ray swung his hips to the beat. Ray pulled a nurse into his arms and swung her around the room. He was tall and muscular; he had prominent dimples. Ray kissed his cheek and Fraser felt something flare in his gut. "Ray!" he tried to say, but no words came.

A doctor patted his arm. "Mr. Fraser, this might sting a bit."

"Constable," a voice said, correcting. It was Ray's voice, but not. Fraser's head fell to the left. Ray's fingers tapped on the bedrail to the rhythm of the beep. Long fingers, so very long. Tapered. Strange. The wrists were weirdly delicate from this angle. The forearms seemed quite pale in this light.

Someone shone a light in his eyes, and Fraser passed out.

Later, footsteps. Booted footsteps, pacing. Fraser's eyes opened to the sight of Ray's back. He'd changed his clothes at some point. He was wearing one of Fraser's thin white undershirts; his shoulders looked extraordinary. Ray turned. Fraser's mouth went dry. Ray had breasts. His chin was pointed; his eyes were larger. Below the breasts—below the shirt—Ray's jeans had turned into a black denim skirt. Ray's legs were very long.

"I swear, I'm never letting you lick another thing," Ray said. His voice was nearly the same as always, only a little softer around the edges. Like his mouth. Oh dear.

"Are you trying to poison yourself? Because I just don't get that, Fraser. What's up with that? I don't get why you do shit like this."

Ray paced. His motorcycle boots were heavy on the linoleum. The undershirt rode up, exposing the small of Ray's back. His waist was narrow and the skin was smooth.

"Lick," Fraser whispered, and Ray whipped around.

"Frase?"

Ray was still a woman. "Woman," he said.

"What?" Ray approached the bed, leaning in and taking hold of Fraser's hand.

Ray's hand was soft; far softer than his real hand, his male hand. Fraser drew it up to his lips and tasted the thumb. Sweet. Ray pulled away, but Fraser held on. He caught the tip of the index finger in his mouth and sucked. Also sweet, with a tang of salt. Fraser pulled the finger deeper into his mouth and drew it out again. Ray. Fraser sucked in the ring and pinkie fingers at the same time and tongued the skin between them. Ray let out a breathless moan. Then Fraser licked the palm. It was a good palm, salty and firm; but it was missing several important calluses.

"We have got to do something about your oral fixation," Ray murmured. Fraser opened his mouth and found himself pulled into a kiss. Ray tasted like bad coffee and worry. His hair was stiff and spiky with gel and his left nipple was hard under Fraser's circling thumb.

"Please," Fraser said, opening his mouth wide. A whining hum broke the near silence and the bed began to shiver. Ray was getting taller again. Ray's skirt was sliding up. Ray was nude beneath it, long legs meeting at heavy testicles and an impatient erection. Fraser took it in his hand, stroking a moan from Ray's soft, feminine mouth. Fraser opened wider and guided it toward his throat. Sweet. Sweet like Ray, and salty. A shift, a tug at his hospital gown, and Ray had Fraser's own erection in hand. Another shift, and Fraser had two palms full of breasts—pert and somewhat lean, like Ray—and Ray's penis bumping against the back of his throat with each thrust.

Then Ray's mouth joined his hand, and Fraser was pumping his hips upward. Salt wet filled Fraser's mouth as he swallowed and swallowed. Ray swallowed and swallowed, consuming Fraser's release.

Fraser closed his eyes. He felt the movement of his gown and the sheet being jerked up from around his knees. There was a scent of leather. It made him feel warm and safe, like a favorite coat.

There weren't any more footsteps.


End file.
